


as you fade

by toxicmew



Series: in the end (here be dragons) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dragons, Elemental Manipulation, Fantasy, Healing, Mythical Elements, Sealing, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicmew/pseuds/toxicmew
Summary: Jeno did one of the most foolish things he could do.He tapped his foot against the earth, chi flowing to his will, and lowered his earthen shield into the ground it had risen from.And the dragon—Well, the dragon let Jeno do what he had been training to do ever since he watched his parents leave without a single glance back.Heal.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: in the end (here be dragons) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033893
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	as you fade

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone~ this was for prompt #0021, i hope you enjoy it uwu

Jeno’s life changed with a bang.

 _Literally_ , in this case, as Jeno struggled to keep himself on his feet with the world rattling around him. Glass containers of herbs clinked on their shelves, barely held in place by the thin strip of wood Jeno had helped put up after the last earthquake had decimated their stock.

It seemed as if this one was much closer though, a localized tremor that was far more intense despite how quickly it dispersed. Jeno was familiar with the earth shaking under him, a result of the village being located so close to an active volcano, but this tremor was…

Well, it was weird.

Despite the oddity of it, Jeno didn’t hesitate to step outside, his healer bag quickly slung over his shoulder. It had only lasted for a few seconds, but the magnitude of the shaking could still leave injuries in its wake.

The sight that greeted him on the other side of his door left his mind reeling.

Blue flames were surrounding a burnt scorch of earth that had been vibrant with spring. They gave off enough heat that Jeno had to squint his eyes closed as a burst of air pushed past him, his lungs burning when he sucked in a surprised breath of air. Then the earth _crunched_ , as if a heavy weight was settling over it as a deep rumbling filled Jeno’s ears.

Opening his eyes, Jeno's lips parted in shock, gaping as his mind struggled to make sense of scales and heat and gleaming golden eyes, the slit pupils focused directly on him.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Jeno hissed, letting his bag falling off his shoulder as he instinctually centered his stance like his father had taught him, dropping down into a crouch and forcing his fist against the soft ground between his feet. The chi running through his internal pathways reaching out for it’s natural element immediately, a wall of stone rising between him and the dragon that had landed in his front yard in an instant. The rumbling earth — clay and volcanic ash, a steady base of obsidian that strained at Jeno’s determination to bend it towards his will — curled around Jeno protectively, his hands trembling in fear as he waited for a stream of superheated flame to impact against it.

But then his brain was catching up with his instincts, and he realized the dragon had _flinched_ when Jeno had moved. As if it expected Jeno to be the one to attack instead, like the dragon wasn’t perfectly capable of barbecuing Jeno where he stood.

That just didn’t seem right.

Dragons were creatures to be feared. Jeno had heard tales of dragons ravaging towns, of devastating entire supply chains of caravans. They left destruction in their wake, their kind weren’t friends to humans.

Which was why it was weird, that such a feared creature would flinch at Jeno’s bending. It was weird. It was just as strange as Jeno thinking a dragon landing merely feet away was actually an earthquake. Which, to be honest, an earthquake was a lot more normal than _this._

Normal people didn’t have dragons landing in their yard. Not if they kept to themselves, focusing their attention to local villages in need of a healer. Considering Jeno was just a medic’s apprentice and his parent’s had made damn sure that was all he would ever be seen as, he rather doubted he had gathered anyone’s attention. Especially since there wasn’t a rider yelling at him from the dragon’s back, ordering Jeno to do as they bid, _or else_.

Even after a minute passed, Jeno wasn’t having anything aimed his way. There wasn’t fire being blasted against his earth wall, there wasn’t anyone yelling. There was just the crackle of burning flames and the crunch of earth being stepped over by an untold weight of muscle and teeth.

It was either his curiosity over that oddity or his own stupidity that had him glancing around the wall he had raised. The dragon hadn’t moved from Jeno’s last sight of it, those burning gold eyes still training on him intently, tracking his every movement as it’s tail swayed behind it. Its body was a shifting hue of blue, dark and light, a churning ocean of superheated scales.

But there was also red, so much red, dripping and sliding and landing on the ground with a sickening splatter.

Jeno frowned, eyes moving up from the blood spotting the burnt earth and looking at the dragon more intently. He could feel his thoughts recalibrating into the healer mindset that Kun had ground into him, looking for the origin of injury even as a corner of his thoughts were regulated to screaming over the insanity that this day was turning out to be.

It didn’t take long to find the source, not with the way Jeno could see orange and red leaves swaying with an autumn breeze through several gouges that had torn at the dragon’s wings. The thin membrane was the color of the turquoise gems Kun always had wrapped around his neck, a pretty blue that was now marred by rivulets of blood. They were still weeping, crimson and vibrant against what blood had already managed to dry before the dragon had landed. Honestly, it was only a blessing from the spirits that had allowed the creature to fly at all with the damage Jeno could see.

 _Focus,_ Kun’s voice echoed in the back of his thoughts, kind but firm as he guided Jeno through his first few lessons and then countless more after that, _You’ve found the injury. How will you treat it? Is your patient in danger? Is your patient_ a _danger?_

Judging by the way the dragon let out a furious growl when it noticed that Jeno had found its current weakness, Jeno knew the answer to his questions. He watched cautiously, still refusing to expose any more of his body in case the dragon decided it really did want to roast him. Not that the creature seemed to care much, far more busy with trying to tuck its wings in close to its body despite the pain Jeno could see it’s actions cause.

“Are you—” Jeno began, only to gulp as the dragon flinched and hissed in response, deepening into a warning growl that shook Jeno to his core. “I'm sorry, but are you okay? Do you—do you need help?”

And wasn’t that such an odd question to ask a creature that could roast him alive within seconds?

Somehow Jeno knew that the dragon was looking at him incredulously, and he honestly couldn't blame it. Still, Jeno had been an apprentice under Kun for over two years, and he had never hesitated to emphasize the most important role of a healer.

“You're hurt, and I'm a healer. If you need help, I will give it to you.” Jeno told the dragon, his voice shaking even as he steeled his nerves and looked steadfast into its molten gaze.

When that didn’t have any effect either, Jeno struggled to find a solution. He didn’t want to startle the dragon, not when it would take only one burst of flame to end Jeno’s existence.

So maybe that's why Jeno did one of the most foolish things he could do.

He tapped his foot against the earth, chi flowing with his will, and lowered his earthen shield into the ground it had risen from.

And the dragon—

Well, the dragon let Jeno do what he had been training to do ever since he watched his parents leave without a single glance back.

Heal.

🌋

Healing a dragon was not an easy endeavor, Jeno found out.

Jeno had become accustomed to filtering the earth from his chi, to pulling it from his core with a neutrality that wouldn’t shock a patient’s system. He was used to the white glow surrounding his fingertips as he pressed his hands over a patient’s body, searching out for injuries and sickness, eradicating it from existence with a precision Kun had drilled into his skull. It was so different from his father’s widespread destruction, his mother’s devastating floods. Both of them had trained Jeno to be an earthquake, a tsunami, a sweeping cataclysm given human form.

Kun didn’t.

Kun had taught Jeno to harness himself at an internal level, to center himself. He taught Jeno to be a knife in the dark, slipping between ribs and straight into a heart. Kun had taught him with a meticulous precision, forcing him to use enough chi to get a job done with nothing wasted in excess.

Jeno found himself needing both methods of teaching when it came to healing the dragon.

A shuddering mass of blood-soaked scales, the dragon had gazed at Jeno’s use of chi like it was a sword held to its vulnerable eye. Jeno couldn’t blame it, not when he was finally able to move close enough to observe the dragon’s wounds. It was clear that they had been caused by someone blessed with wind chi, calling out to Jeno’s trained senses like a sickness. He could sense the way that person’s chi still clung to the dragon’s wounds, keeping them weeping crimson tears.

So Jeno had to show the dragon, with his words and his steady hands as he placed a soothing application of chi over seeping wounds, that he would not cause further harm.

"It's healing chi." Jeno told the dragon, keeping his voice level and calm as he tried to keep his fingers from shaking. The dragon was staring at him, intent and distrustful, and Jeno lifted his hand up, showing the dragon the way his chi emitted off the tips of his fingers, glowing a gentle eggshell white. "There's none of my earth chi in this. Healing chi is neutral, and it's meant for helping everyone. Even dragons."

Jeno hadn't been around many dragons in his life, but even he could decipher the distrustful look the dragon was giving him. It was still drenched in blood, wounds weeping sluggishly, but it had yet to fly away again. Jeno honestly didn’t know if it _could_ fly, not with the lacerations through the wing membranes that Jeno could completely see through. For now the dragon had curled up in the burnt circle of grass it had created with its landing, wings tucked protectively close to its body and its muscles tensing with every glimpse of Jeno it saw.

They had somehow managed to come to a stalemate between them, the dragon seemingly trusting that Jeno wasn’t an immediate threat, and Jeno trusting that he wouldn’t be roasted without prompting.

Now Jeno was before the dragon yet again, healer’s bag slung over his shoulder, demonstrating to the injured dragon that he just wanted to _help_.

“I really don’t know if you can understand me,” Jeno told it, letting the glow from his fingers dissipate for a moment. After a moment of thought, Jeno reached down towards his boot, one palm facing towards the dragon calmingly as its slit pupils dilated, “I’m just going to show you, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Then Jeno was pulling the knife he kept hidden in the leather of his boot into his palm, watching the way the dragon’s nostrils flexed, breathing out a steaming rush of air. Jeno took it for the threat it was, holding the knife away from the dragon and instead directing it to his own outstretched arm. With a grimace of resolve, Jeno slid the sharpened blade along his forearm, opening a shallow wound that immediately started weeping blood.

He ignored the pain, his tolerance far too high for Jeno to be bothered by such a minor cut, instead choosing to meet the dragon’s gaze straight on as it’s eyes widened in apparent surprise. Jeno took a moment to slip his knife back into his boot, ignoring the warm trickle of blood against his skin. He wasn’t ignorant to the way the dragon was tracking his every move, wary and calculating as any injured predator would be. That’s why he kept his movements calm and fluid, both of his hands always visible to the dragon, until he was straightening back up and calling healing chi back to his fingertips.

Jeno glanced up for a quick moment, noting the way the dragon’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously, before moving his fingers over the bubbling wound, focusing on early lessons with Kun, back when the healer was just beginning to teach Jeno his ways.

Jeno made sure to keep the healing process slow, dragging it out for longer than his normal speed allowed, but he wanted to make sure the dragon was able to watch and fully comprehend the way Jeno’s skin knit back together under his gentle touch. That’s why Jeno didn’t watch the healing too closely, far more concerned with keeping track of the dragon’s body language, taking note of every muscle that tensed, of every wound that continued to bleed crimson.

Still, Jeno knew when the wound finally closed, no trace of a scar left behind as he rubbed his palm over his bloodied arm and held it up to the dragon to stare at in mystification. “That’s what I do with my chi. I heal both myself and others when they need it, when they’re wounded just like you are. So please, let me help you?”

Which led to now, where Jeno was running his hands a hairsbreadth over the dragon’s ocean hued scales, the entirety of his palms glowing a gentle white as he seeked out any foreign chi clinging to the dragon’s spirit. It was with Kun’s precision that he annihilated any remaining traces of wind clinging to the dragon’s internal fire, and it was with his parent’s sweeping wave of force that he washed over gaping wounds, feeling his knees buckle as the drain to his core became more and more prevalent. Jeno knew that he wouldn’t be able to heal the dragon in a day, not when it was at least four times his size.

Jeno barely managed to stumble back into the house that day, falling face first into his bed and sleeping late into the next day as his core revitalized itself. Then he was making his way back to the dragon who had taken to curling into the burned circle of grass it had created, watching with bared fangs as Jeno pulled his chi to his fingertips and swiped it over wound after wound.

He did it though, eventually. Slowly those smaller wounds disappeared completely, until Jeno was able to turn his attention to the larger ones that would scar no matter how much he tried to heal them completely.

Still, Jeno never gave up. No matter how tedious healing a dragon turned out to be. The dragon was his patient now, and Jeno would not give up until every wound closed under his hand.

At least _hiding_ the dragon was less tedious, though there was nothing to say about doing both at once. Jeno was just glad that Kun had built his home so deep into the woods, searching for privacy compared to the close quarters of the nearby village.

Sure, Jeno would still traipse off to the town to pick up a few products they couldn’t create for themselves, but overall, Kun’s home was very self-sufficient. It was hard, doing it all on his own now, but Jeno knew that Kun had done the same for many years before Jeno had been left in his care. That’s why he never complained when the owner of the apothecary asked how he was doing, worry in his eyes. He couldn’t confess to Junhui just how hard things could be, how scared Jeno sometimes got when it had been too long since he had seen another human being.

He had Seol, of course, and the other spirits that inhabited the woods. He wasn’t alone, but sometimes, it truly did feel like he was.

That was just another way the dragon was turning his world upside down. Instead of spending his days studying the tomes Kun had stuffed into his study, Jeno spent the days caring for his patient. Not many villagers ventured out to the house, not when they were usually too ill to make the trip. No, it was usually messengers sent for him to come to the village, random children left on the street that had managed to find a purpose they needed to fill.

Jeno always gave those messengers a couple pieces of bread, even if their shocked delight had his chest compressing in sympathy. Then he sent them back towards the village as fast as their little feet could carry them, offering a small protective talisman over to ensure they could make the journey safely.

Jeno went to visit the dragon after gathering a bag, slipping into the old stable he assumed Kun had used for a horse before Jeno had known him. The dragon had taken so much coaxing to relocate to the shelter, but one horrendous storm blowing in from the sea had finally seen ocean scales slipping into the shadow of the thatched roof.

Honestly, Jeno was just glad that the stone walls wouldn’t catch alight with any stray bit of flame the dragon produced.

He told the dragon where he would be that day, when he would probably return. That he would be back the next day at the latest. He reassured the creature that he would be _back_.

Then he left, heart heavy and a molten gaze trained on his back.

He returned, of course. The first time he left, the second time, and every single time after that. Some trips into the village took longer than others, but Jeno would always find his way about home.

And slowly, Jeno started to notice the way the dragon would perk up when it — he, Jeno had learned eventually — noticed Jeno’s return. The dragon’s head would appear from the entrance to the stable, keeping slightly hidden in the shadows as golden eyes traced over Jeno’s body. Then the dragon was sliding out from the stable, ocean hued scales glowing with a steadily increasing sheen of health under the sun.

The dragon would greet him with a snout pressed to Jeno’s chest, large nostrils inhaling his scent and Jeno trusting that the dragon wouldn’t exhale with a burst of flame as Jeno rubbed his palm over sapphire hued horns. They had grown to trust each other over the period that it took for the dragon’s health to return. Jeno slowly losing his fear — of this particular dragon, at least — and the dragon learning to trust a human. Even if it was only ever Jeno himself.

Once Jeno had things settled after his trip, they would return to their new routines. Every morning he would head down to the stable to run chi-soaked hands over the dragon’s wings, over the slicing wounds barely indenting powerful scales. It hadn’t always been that easy. Jeno had needed to offer meat, herbs, gentle poultices that soothed the wounds and enhanced healing. The dragon hadn't immediately trusted Jeno's chi after he demonstrated the fact that he could heal with it, but it did wonders on establishing that first bit of trust. Then, only day, the dragon finally tipped the scales and offered out one of its forelegs, the one that was still marred by one of the deepest slices despite the salves and bandages Jeno had wrapped it with. There the dragon watched, its sapphire claws as long as Jeno's forearms and a constant threat, a reminder that the dragon could kill him in an instant if he needed to.

But Jeno had taken that token of trust, no matter how small it was, and he had gathered healing chi in his hands and set to work.

By the end of that day Jeno was wavering on his feet and the dragon’s foreleg only had a thin line scarring his scales. The dragon had given Jeno one of the most mystifying looks he had received from him so far, before tilting his scaled snout towards the house.

Jeno took the hint. He headed back inside, barely making his way up the steps to his room, and passed out in a dead sleep.

The next day he woke up, ate a meal more fitting for three people, and went back to the stable to seal up another one of the wounds covering the dragon’s body. And a new routine was established.

Then one day, months after that first burning touch down, Jeno had walked into the stable in the midst of a late winter snow for another round of treating the dragon’s steadily disappearing wounds. He had closed them all long ago, but now he focused on minimizing the scarring, and on making sure that the dragon’s wings were healed to the absolute best of his ability. He was forced to stop short in surprise though, as his thoughts stumbled to a halt, because there, in the rather crispy hay the dragon delightly snuggled into, was not a dragon.

It was a boy.

Or, well, a _man_ would be more accurate, even if his face looked rather young. He was probably Jeno’s age, if he really thought about it.

Except he wasn’t human like Jeno. Jeno wasn’t sure _what_ he was, but Jeno had dealt with spirits all his life, and he knew when something wasn’t human. He _looked_ human, even though his skin was scarred with so many healed cuts Jeno couldn’t even hope to count them all. His back was one long line of lean muscle, and it was only then that Jeno noticed how he was bare from head to toe.

Then the man looked over his shoulder, his eyes drifting open in a slow flutter of lashes that revealed a molten gaze Jeno had grown so familiar with.

And now Jeno knew exactly where his dragon had gone.

🌋

“Can you talk?” Jeno questioned slowly, trying his best not to look at the man sitting in his kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the way sharp nails clicked against the wooden tabletop, a sprinkle of blue scales only just visible on the pads of his fingers and the palm of his hands. He refused to look any lower.

The man — _dragon!_ — moved his gaze from peering around the home to train on Jeno, burning hotly between Jeno’s shoulderblades as Jeno ruffled through his wardrobe for some spare clothes. He was just glad that they were basically the same size, though he was pretty sure the man had broader shoulders than his own.

There was a low rumbling sound, before slowly the man opened his mouth and spoke, voice rasping out of his throat. “Yes.”

Jeno turned to him with a frown, healer instincts immediately rising to the forefront. “Was your throat injured as well? I might have missed it—”

But the man was already shaking his head, sky blue hair shifting with the movement. “No. It’s been,” here the man paused, eyebrows furrowing in frustration before his shoulders tilted up in a shrug, “a long time. Since I have been in this form.”

Jeno noted absently the way his words became less stilted the more he spoke, clearly adjusting back to the habit. Still, the fact that he had been in this form before…

“Do all dragons have this ability?” Jeno asked, both horrified and entranced by the prospect. It meant there was the distinct possibility that he had encountered a dragon before the one sitting at his kitchen table had landed in his front garden. The man’s blue hair wasn’t an oddity, after all, not when blue hair was a common feature to those gifted with water-based chi.

Jeno himself had blue tones in his hair, but it was only visible underneath the rays of the sun. Otherwise his hair appeared to be the same deep shade of black that his father had sported.

“Yes.” The dragon answered, before tilting his head slightly in consideration. “It makes it...easier. To blend in.”

“Because you look human.” Jeno filled in needlessly, nodding in understanding. Dragons wouldn't be the first spirits to create a human form in order to walk among them unexpectedly.

“Mostly.” The dragon admitted as he glanced over Jeno's body, sending a flush to Jeno’s cheeks as he watched slit pupils dilate until only a thin ring of gold was visible. “My name is Jaemin.”

“Jeno.” He answered in response, relieved to have a name to label this odd addition to his life. Even if he thought the name far too simple for someone as beautiful as Jaemin appeared, no matter the form.

Jaemin smiled, a wide and bright thing that showed off far too many of his teeth. His canines were slightly elongated, even his molars looking more sharp than those of the average human. He looked like an absolutely normal human, at least until you really focused in on the details of his body. Because no human had teeth that sharp, eyes that luminescent, or light smattering of scales along weaker parts of his body.

Jeno was still trying his best not to look down at the dragon's — Jaemin's — crotch, knowing he was far too curious for his own good and trying his best to avoid temptation. Now was _not_ the time.

Swallowing roughly, Jeno fisted the material of the shirt in his hands before holding it out to the dragon. It wasn’t that elaborate, the linen thin but soft, and always loose around the shoulders when Jeno wore it to bed. “Here, you can wear this.”

Jaemin looked at him strangely, dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You—” Jeno cut himself off for a moment, giving himself a moment to gather his wits before pushing the shirt into Jaemin’s chest until the dragon took it from his grasp. “If you’re going to be in a human form, you have to wear clothes like one too.”

Jaemin looked down at the shirt curiously, holding it up between his fingers. Then he was turning his gaze back towards Jeno, curious as he held the linen up to his nose and sniffed at the fabric. “How do I put it on?”

Jeno looked at him dubiously for a long moment, before realizing under Jaemin’s unwavering gaze, that the dragon was serious. Reaching out to take the shirt back, Jeno breathed out a sigh, motioning with one hand as he found the bottom hem. “Hold your arms up for me.”

Jeno tried his best not to think about the heat radiating off of Jaemin’s body as he pulled the linen over his head. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining pants to the dragon, already dismissing the thought of undergarments from his mind. Spirits, Jeno would be lucky if he was able to make Jaemin understand the concept of _shoes_.

Jeno would try his best. Even if he would never in his wildest dreams expect to be in circumstances like these. He had promised himself he would take care of the injured dragon that had fallen into his lap, though, and a change in that dragon’s form would not see him breaking his promise.

🌋

Jeno adjusted to Jaemin’s human form faster than he adjusted to the fact that a dragon was sleeping in Kun’s old stable. It was actually _nice_ to have someone else inhabiting the house again, even if Jaemin was far from being a human companion.

Jeno was finally able to have someone to converse with, though Jaemin had already been listening to him rambling for quite a long time by this point. The change was the fact that Jaemin could now respond. He could ask about Jeno’s day, about what the people in the village were like, how Jeno knew what things would make something heal. He couldn’t read, and Jeno honestly wasn’t surprised by that fact, but he was an avid conversationalist once he became more accustomed to human speech.

He would still wake up to find Jaemin had retreated to the stable. Jeno had offered a side of his bed the very night he had found out about Jaemin’s human form, but Jaemin had refused. He preferred to retreat to the stable, golden human skin shifting into warm ocean-blue scales, gleaming in the moonlight as he slumped into his favored hay bed. Jeno didn’t begrudge him for this choice, not when Jaemin was most at home in his natural form, but Jeno couldn’t help the disappointment he felt every time. Maybe it was just the winter wind that caused Jeno’s bed to feel colder than it normally was.

Eventually, when Jaemin was hovering over Jeno’s kitchen table, illuminated by soft candlelight as the winter’s last snow fell outside, Jaemin revealed to him that the stable reminded him of home. The stone of the stable’s floor and lower walls seemed to soak up the warmth Jaemin emanated, reminding him of the home he had fled from. Jeno still didn’t know why or how Jaemin had ended up in his garden, nor did he know who exactly it was that had injured him so badly. He just knew that he was thankful Jaemin had found him, had let him heal him, and trusted him enough to slide back into that human form and provide Jeno with his company.

Now it was weeks later, the scent of spring blossoms blowing through the open windows, butterflies landing on newly bloomed flowers and birds chirping in the surrounding forest as Jeno tied more herbs to hang from the upper beams to dry out. He would properly store them later, now that he was finally able to restock the stores he had been forced to run through during a late winter sickness that had passed through the nearby village.

Jaemin was sitting at the kitchen table as he normally did, shoulders comfortably relaxed as he nibbled at the claws on his hand. Jeno could see a flash of sharp fangs every time Jaemin’s lips twitched, and he tried his best to keep his focus on the early lavender blooms the local nekomata had directed him to.

Jaemin was eyeing that very spirit as she padded along the railing outside, golden eyes intent and unwavering on the feline just as it had been when he had stumbled in through the back door. He had developed a habit to sleep later into the day, leaving Jeno to occupy himself in the mornings, walking among the forests surrounding the property in search of ingredients beginning to bloom out of winter’s frost. “Why is she always here?”

“You mean Seollie?” Jeno questioned, glancing over and smiling at the split-tailed cat licking at one of her paws before grooming her ear. “She’s a good girl. Keeps the mujina and tanuki in check within the forest. The villagers know to give her a few treats here and there and she keeps them in her protection.”

The dragon turned a dubious look back towards the feline spirit. “She is small.”

Jeno snorted before he could stop himself, causing Jaemin to jolt in surprise and send him a wary look. “Sorry. You’re right, but… Well, you and Seol would find a few things in common.”

Almost on cue, the peacefully grooming nekomata's head raised, ears twitching and tail tips swaying, before she was bounding from the railing in a burst of blue spirit fire. A beat of silence passed as both Jeno and Jaemin stared out the window in the direction she had gone, and then there was a scream of a pained tanuki.

“Told you.” Jeno murmured, smirking slightly before finishing tying the bundle of lavender and moving to step onto a stool so that he could hang the flowers high overhead. Jaemin continued to watch him, but Jeno had long grown used to the way molten eyes followed his every move. “How are your scars?”

“Better.” Jaemin answered easily, accustomed to the way words flowed between them now. “They do not ache as much anymore.”

Jeno let out an answering hum. “That’s good. I’m going to rub some salve over your scales when I’m done with this. It should help sooth some of the tightness from the scar tissue.”

Jaemin nodded, compliant in a way he never would have been in the beginning, a small smile curling the edge of his lip and showing off one of his longer fangs. “Thank you.”

Jeno stumbled slightly as he stepped off of the stool, shooting Jaemin a confused look. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, Jaemin.”

Golden eyes blinked at him slowly, Jaemin’s mouth pursing into a slight pout that Jeno refused to think of as adorable. “Yes, I do. Most humans are not all kind as you are, Jeno. So thank you, for accepting me into your nest. Even when I scared you.”

Jeno felt his cheeks flush immediately, turning back towards the herbs he had left on the counter in order to hide his blush. “I mean. You’re welcome then, I guess.”

Jaemin smiled shyly, the expression still not familiar on his face, just a flash of a fang appearing before Jeno continued to speak. “But you know… You’re welcome to stay inside the house instead of the stable some nights, if you like. I wouldn’t mind sharing my bed, especially since storms should start moving in more often now that spring has fully arrived.”

Jaemin looked at him for a long moment, his molten gaze burning over every inch of Jeno’s skin. Then Jaemin tilted his head slightly to the side, a curious tilt to his mouth as sky blue bangs drifted across his forehead. “If you would have me.”

“Of course.” Jeno responded, smiling as his chest fluttered happily. He knew this was another step forward, an advancement on some unspoken path he didn’t even know he was on. That was alright though, because nothing that would lead to ruin would make Jeno feel this much peace.

🌋

Waking up in Jaemin’s arms wasn’t something Jeno was used to. They had developed a routine together over the passing seasons, one that Jeno relied upon and looked forward to as he went about his day.

He was used to waking up to an empty bed, to getting ready in an empty bedroom, to move around an empty house, and then go off on a morning hike through the woods. Then he would spend his afternoons under the sun, fire-warm scales under his palms, Jaemin’s gentle breathing mixing with the passing breeze. Sometimes those afternoons would be replaced with events like yesterday, where Jaemin would compress his soul down into a human form and join Jeno in his kitchen, serving as welcome company while Jeno prepared ingredients. Those nights always consisted of a dinner meant for two, shoulders brushing as they sat pressed together at the small table, Jeno trying his best not to lean into the welcome warmth of Jaemin’s side on cold winter days.

Then Jaemin would leave, honey toned skin shifting into mesmerizing blue, shifting unseen in the inky blackness of a new moon or glinting beautifully under a full one. Jeno would watch him slink his way through the garden, gentle snowfall falling over the rigid, sapphire blue spines starting between Jaemin’s horns all the way down to the larger, more deadly looking ones at the tip of his tail.

It was only when Jaemin had slipped completely into the shadows of the stable that Jeno would look away, turning back to his empty home still warm with Jaemin’s presence, and prepare himself for another cold, lonely night.

But this, this was much different. That night after dinner had consisted of Jaemin following him up the stairs to Jeno’s bedroom, right across the hall from Kun’s locked room. Jeno hadn’t stepped inside there since the night Kun had left, even if the room was far larger than the secondary bedroom that had become his so many years ago. It was at least big enough for both himself and Jaemin, even though he knew the bed would probably be a bit too small for them both.

Sliding underneath the blanket, Jeno wondered how long it would take for him to toss it off of them. Jaemin was still a furnace after all, no matter which form he was in. He was just happy that it hadn’t taken too long until they were able to get into bed, only a sprinkling of light bickering — Jaemin still didn’t understand the function of clothes, but at least he acquiesced to sliding the thin tunic over his head — and Jeno was relaxed against the soft surface.

Jaemin still hadn’t joined him though, hovering at the edge of the bed and looking over Jeno’s relaxed form curiously, his golden eyes gleaming in the low candlelight. Jeno politely pressed himself further up against the wall, patting the space beside him in a silent offer. The dragon would probably like having the edge at his side, serving as an easy escape if he decided he felt too trapped.

“Come on.” Jeno told him, voice edged with exhaustion. He had hiked further than he normally attempted that morning, and he was finally feeling the toll it had taken on his body. “Join me before I fall asleep.”

Jaemin listened, careful but curious as he pressed one of his knees into the mattress. His eyes predictably went wide in surprise, not expecting the softness of wool and feathers that Jeno had been just as surprised by so long ago. Kun never had answered Jeno’s curious questions about where he had received the mattress from, and was even more tight lipped about the silken blankets placed upon his own bed.

“It’s so soft.” Jaemin murmured, his voice low and careful of his claws as he ran his hands over the linen sheets. He was just as careful as he crawled his way onto the mattress, balancing on his hands and knees and peering over at Jeno in delight. “It’s so much softer than the hay bed.”

“You should have joined me sooner.” Jeno told him in amusement, holding the blanket to the side and watching in amusement as Jaemin lowered down onto his front, his body curling slightly as if he was tucking into himself. He was probably unfamiliar with sleeping in this form, more accustomed to curling his dragon body around itself until he looked like Seol when she found a nice patch of sunlight, a perfect little circle of warmth and contentment.

“I should have, yes.” Jaemin agreed, shifting slightly before turning onto his back. Jeno watched in amusement as Jaemin continued to toss and turn, as if he was attempting to feel the softness of the mattress on every part of his body. It was only when he was face Jeno, his warm breath crossing the scant separation between them, that Jaemin decided to settle, his arms pressed up under his chin and his eyes slowly blinking in contentment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jeno told him, still so amused. He reached a hesitant hand up, unsurprised when Jaemin’s gaze immediately darted down to track his movement. He didn’t move though, staying relaxed against the bed as Jeno wrapped his fingers around one of his curled fists, giving it a slight squeeze. Jeno could feel the difference in texture between the smooth blue scales and Jaemin’s mimicry of human skin, both as warm as each other, both pleasant under the pad of Jeno’s thumb as he swiped it over Jaemin’s knuckles. “I’m glad you joined me.”

“I am too.” Jaemin told him, soft and honest as he turned his hand and pressed their palms together.

They fell asleep like that, with their hands intertwined and warmth shared between them.

Then Jeno was waking up, still just as warm as when he drifted into sleep, and Jaemin was still there. He was closer, even, with his hand still loosely grasping at Jeno’s own and his other arm curled tightly around Jeno’s waist. Jeno could feel the way his face flushed, already pinkened cheeks turning red in a way that had nothing to do with how warm his bedroom was. He couldn’t leave either, not with how tight Jaemin held him.

Jeno didn’t even want to try moving away, not really. This was the closest he had ever been to Jaemin when he was in his human form, and he was utterly shameless in the way he traced over the features of Jaemin’s face. It was so human it was eerie, but there were still slight differences that only a detailed examination could truly catch as something _other_.

It was in the way Jaemin’s mouth was just slightly too large, his eyes more pronounced, the bluish tinge of scales disappearing into the delicate skin of his ears. It was the way his breath was too hot, his teeth too sharp, his skin too smooth. Despite it all though, Jaemin really was one of the most beautiful beings Jeno had ever seen.

“Jeno?” Jaemin murmured, startling him from his thoughts, his arm tightening around Jeno’s waist and dragging him even closer, their bare legs brushing together. “You’re staring. It is too early for thoughts, go back to sleep.”

Jeno smiled before he could help it, letting out a sleep raspy laugh and tightening his fingers against Jaemin’s in a gentle squeeze. “Lazy dragon.”

Jaemin’s mouth quirked up slightly, his eyes still closed, long lashes fluttering in the dawn-dark room. “Of course.”

Jeno huffed out another laugh, but he still listened, snuggling further into the mattress and relaxing into Jaemin’s grip. The thought of cold, lonely mornings were far from his thoughts at that moment, not when he had so much warmth pressed against his side.

🌋

When they finally rose from bed, it was late into the morning, far too late for Jeno to bother with his daily hike through the woods. The temperatures were steadily increasing now that spring was in full swing, so Jeno knew if he went out now he would only return in time for lunch, irritable and with his clothes plastered to his skin with sweat.

Instead Jeno had chosen to fix them a quick breakfast, glancing occasionally over to Jaemin as the dragon napped against the tabletop, still steadfast in his belief that it was far too early to be functioning. He at least managed to keep himself awake enough to clean the plate Jeno settled down in front of him, so Jeno decided not to tease the sleeping dragon.

He was honestly surprised when Jaemin didn’t leave him after the meal to go out and nap in the garden, warming his scales under the sun and snorting at any butterflies that settled on his nose. Instead he followed at Jeno’s heels, a warm press of his skin as he leaned against Jeno like he was a vertical mattress, his voice a low rumble whenever he complained about Jeno moving. It was a bit odd, truth be told, but Jeno figured that this was the consequence of having a dragon pressed against you throughout the night — they got clingy the day afterwards.

Like now, when Jeno had eventually made his way into Kun’s old study in order to search out a specific healing salve he wanted to try on a few of Jaemin’s lingering scars. The one he had applied the day before was just one of many Jeno had attempted, each whittling away at the thin scars decorating Jaemin’s scales. They weren’t noticeable from a distance, not with all the care Jeno had put into erasing their existence, but when you got close enough they were still visible enough to pick out.

Even in his human form Jaemin was unable to escape those scars, although Jeno had only caught glimpses of those, trying his best not to look too closely whenever Jaemin started stripping — a fairly common occurrence, unfortunately.

“Jeno.” Jaemin suddenly said, his normally calm, rumbling voice sounding oddly choked. “Jeno, _what is this_.”

Jeno glanced up from where he was sitting at Kun’s old desk, one of the more dust-coated tomes carefully spread out in front of him. Jaemin had been curiously poking around the study, becoming distracted for almost an hour by Kun’s collections of maps, but now he was standing before one of the bookshelves. His claws were digging dangerously into the wood of one of the shelves, his molten gaze glaring at the print along one of the book’s bindings. “What?”

“ _This_.” Jaemin hissed, vowels sliding together as his voice deepened with the edge of a growl. “Why do you have _this_?”

Then he was jabbing one of his claws forward, his hand dangerously covered in more ocean hued scales than it normally was. Jeno quickly pushed himself up, almost tripping over his feet as he hurriedly moved to Jaemin’s side. It was the first time the dragon had ever made his way into the study, usually having no interest in the multitude of books he was incapable of reading. Jeno had been trying his best to teach Jaemin to read at least a few letters, but it was slow going when the lazy dragon would much rather wander outside and take a nap or sharpen his claws against one of the many scored trees he had scratched at beforehand.

It took barely a second for Jeno to press up against Jaemin’s side, their shoulders bumping together gently as he turned confused eyes towards the book that had offended Jaemin so much. What he saw was one of Kun’s more advanced instructions on seals, one that Jeno had only taken cursory looks at considering it was rare that the village ever saw the types of spirits that would warrant that level of offensive capabilities. Even rarer were the times anyone in the village needed that level of healing, so Jeno had only ever really looked at it when Kun was making him memorize some of the matrices.

Now that he was thinking about it though, Jeno probably should have used a few to assist him with healing Jaemin’s wounds. Then again, the dragon had barely trusted him to heal him with his chi, so it probably wouldn’t have been that smart of a decision, truth be told. Especially with the way Jaemin was glaring at the book as if it had offended his very being.

“You know about seals?” Jeno decided to question, honestly confused. If Jaemin couldn’t even read the standard language, how would he be able to read seals?

“These are _spirit shackles_ , Jeno.” Jaemin hissed, his claw hovering over the back of the binding as if he was afraid to even touch the book. “Of course I know what it is. They _used_ them on me when I—”

“Jaemin?” Jeno questioned, confused with the way Jaemin had suddenly cut himself off, turning to look at him. Then he was watching, stunned silent as he watched in horror as the dragon literally choked on his words, an ominous line of red runes circling around his neck. Jaemin’s eyes had shot wide, slit pupils dilated and only showing a thin ring of gold as he scrambled to clutch at his throat, sharp claws nicking delicate skin until he was washed both with the eerily crimson glow of the seals and his own blood.

“ _Jaemin!_ ” Jeno shot forward, healing chi shooting to his fingertips, panic and adrenaline rushing forward as he automatically tried deciphering the seals under Jaemin’s grasping hands.

He had no idea how he had missed them over the months Jaemin had been with him. They were so _obvious_ now, taunting Jeno with his presence as he scrambled to place his fingers over Jaemin’s, healing chi reaching out to sooth the wounds Jaemin was scratching into himself. But then Jeno was really taking in the runes, his mind connecting the symbols with the lessons his mother had sat him through as soon as he was able to read.

_Restriction. Silence. Obedience. Servitude._

Jeno felt rage slam into him alongside realization. There was a break within the pattern of the seals, as if someone had tried to untangle them from Jaemin’s skin, but it wasn’t enough. Silence was one the strongest of the four pillars, the center rune that the other three braced against. It was most likely why the half-broken matrix had been dormant all this time, the other runes lacking the strength to function so long as Jaemin hadn’t spoken about wherever he had come from or who had done this to him.

“Jaemin.” Jeno hissed, healing chi dissipating from his fingertips as the seals slowly started to fade now that Jaemin had stopped speaking, moving his blood-coated palms up to cup either side of Jaemin’s jaw. It worked to get Jaemin’s panicked gaze focused on him, the dragon’s hot breath fanning over Jeno’s face as Jaemin still tightly grasped at his own throat. “Jaemin, don’t explain, okay? I’m going to get that off of you, do you hear me? Seals shouldn’t—”

Jeno’s voice broke there, tears struggling to escape past his lashes as his rage mixed with an overwhelming sense of despair. This was _wrong_. Whoever had done this to Jaemin was breaking one of the first rules Jeno had ever been taught. “Seals are not _meant for that_. They’re meant for good, okay? For healing. For protection. To ward off spirits that wish to kill us. They’re not meant to _enslave_.”

“Break it.” Jaemin told him, his voice sounding strangled and barely recognizable over the rumbling growl building in his chest. “Jeno, break it _fast_. I can feel it, the urge to _go back_ —”

“ _Fuck_.” Jeno hissed, hurriedly rubbing his hand over his pants in an effort to wipe Jaemin’s blood from his skin. Then he was raising his thumb up to his own mouth, merciless as he bit down hard enough to draw blood. He didn’t know if Jaemin would forgive him for this, not with what he was hinting at happening in his past, but Jeno wouldn’t let him go back to whatever he had escaped from. Not when Jeno had spent so many months putting him back together.

Jaemin sucked in a startled breath, nostrils flaring as Jeno’s blood started dripping down his thumb, but Jeno was already pressing forward, swiping crimson lines over Jaemin’s forehead in sweeping strokes he hadn’t used in so long, not since the last time Kun had needed to heal a patient that had required they stay unconscious. “It’ll be okay, Jaemin. I’ll break it, I swear I will. Just—”

Jeno’s voice broke, tears flowing down his cheeks as he looked into Jaemin’s terrified gaze, caused both by the rage coursing through his veins and regret over what he would have to do. His heart broke as he watched an ugly curl of betrayal wash over Jaemin’s beautifully trusting expression as he realized what Jeno had just painted over his skin, and it was with a half choked sob that Jeno pulsed his chi against the seal he had just finished and Jaemin collapsed unconscious against him. “Just please, _trust me_.”

🌋

**Author's Note:**

> first and foremost, i'd like to apologize to my prompter 😭 mostly for the fact that this does not completely fill the prompt in this part, as well as the rather loose take on magic that i took with it (really, its more like an odd combination of atla's bending and naruto's chakra). but i can assure you despite how short this seemingly is that i actually have like 10k of the next couple of parts already completed, because this fic turned into a monster without me looking and this is only the beginning for nomin as we know it (also sorry for that cliffhanger but more will be explained in the next part) bUT HOPEFULLY YOU LIKED IT SO FAR 💚
> 
> next part of the series coming soon! uwu
> 
> quick synopsis of featured named spirits (mostly yōkai) and other animals:  
>  _nekomata_ \- two tailed cat  
>  _mujina_ \- badger  
>  _tanuki - raccoon dog_
> 
> [ [twt](https://twitter.com/toxicmew) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/toxicmew) ]


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